


Berry, Blossom, Ice

by Savageseraph



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Cold, Community: contrelamontre, Established Relationship, F/M, Hand Jobs, M/M, Scents & Smells, Senses, Snow and Ice, Tastes & Flavors
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-01-19
Updated: 2003-01-19
Packaged: 2017-10-02 18:31:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Savageseraph/pseuds/Savageseraph
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A study in contrasts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Berry, Blossom, Ice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Galadriel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galadriel/gifts).



> An improv fic with the following guidelines: The first of a series of sensory challenges starting with the sense of smell. Special attention should be paid to scents, and if possible, they should play an integral part in the plot. The time limit is 45 minutes. This one is for Galadriel because she inspired it.

Aragorn woke as his bedding shifted under the weight of a second body. Were he not sleeping in Rivendell, his hand would have already been on the sword that, even in this safe haven, rested within easy reach. He did not open his eyes. The scent of hydrangea and citrus filled him with every breath, and he could not help but smile.

Gentle laughter tickled his skin from lips that were already close to his. He felt vibrations of it radiating from the jewel that rested against his chest, the star-white gems responding to their mistress's presence as strongly as he was. Arwen kissed him. Her lips and the tongue that glided into his mouth tasted of strawberry wine.

Her body was sleek and supple as she rode him, her skin fresh as rain. Her nails dug into his chest, as she found her release and brought him his. He pulled her down against him. A hint of almond tinged her sweat and mingled with his salt. The fragrance of blossom and berry ripened around them, and for a time there was no doubt in Aragorn's heart.

There was only Arwen.

###

The cold of Caradhras made Aragorn's eyes ache and tightened the skin of his face until the bitter wind felt like it was tearing his forehead and cheeks. It forced him to breathe through his nose because breathing through his mouth hurt too badly. It stole his sense of smell, left him with only the bright burn of ice flooding into him over and over again.

Aragorn knew that he should be able to smell Boromir, the other man's scent rising from the cloak that covered them both, from the body pressed against Aragorn's own. There should be the tang of metal and the distinctive odor of body-warmed leather rising between them. But there was only ice. Even with his face pressed against Boromir's neck, his hand around Boromir's cock, Boromir's hand around him, there was only ice.

Boromir twitched as Aragorn ran his tongue along the blonde's neck. The taste was stale, muted, a tickle of salt without the scent of sweat, without Boromir's dark, heady musk. When Boromir kissed him as his body shook in release, there was only a flash of heat without flavor.

There was only ice.


End file.
